


A thousand revolutions

by mrrogers98



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: ???? its a mystery, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 21:23:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3396839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrrogers98/pseuds/mrrogers98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You gotta understand this son, us, the good guys, we’re not good because we were born this way, we’re good because we choose to be good, and its us you don’t wanna get on the bad side of because that can easily change depending which way the wind blows.<br/>And you gotta remember, good, bad… It’s all relative.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A thousand revolutions

It wasn't friday, that much he was sure of. He knew if it was friday, he would not be up right now, pouring hot dark coffee down his throat as he groggily stumbled through his flat at 4 am. If it was friday, he'd still be enjoying the comforts of his bed and all the luxuries that came with it. Friday his shift started at 10. Today was monday.

It was monday, and he had to be at the clinic in 30, scratch that, 20  minutes. Shit.

Fuck.

Twenty minutes.

He scrambled to find suitable attire before grabbing his keys and wallet and racing out the door, albeit forgetting his coffee. By the time he reached his car, one of those new hybrid lexus models, and started his ignition, it came to his attention that he had forgotten to grab a snack-pack for his daughter. See, instead of a normal custody arrangement, his ex-wife insisted of this garbage, from  monday to wednesday he had his baby girl, and it wasn't like he minded, especially because his shift ended at four, but come on, it was monday for crying out loud. Don't marry at 18, it's never a good idea. That fact alone was enough to make him dread any activity that didn't include some kind of caffeination, and he had left that at home. He sighed, at least he'd be able to make a crappy cup before his first appointment, that is if he made it there on-time.

His eyes flickered to his car clock as he came to the freeway entrance. 4:11. Damn.

So he didn't exactly have to be there at four-twenty, but, like, that was preferable. With all the paperwork he had to complete and file before his first appointment, he found that it was worth it to get there early. Technically he had to be there at five, but with his first client at 5:30, thirty minutes of preparation did not at all seem reasonable, so thats why, as he pulls into the parking lot at 4:22 am, he's just about the only car there (minus the graveyard's), free to pick whichever space fit his fancy.

Before entering the building he took a deep  breath, this would be a long day.

 

______________________________________________________________________

It was 4:22 when he jutted the engine if his Kawasaki motor bike, en- route to his new workspace, a research facility just off of 49th street.

Tonight he could relax. Tonight. But today, today was friday, and today he had 12 hours of work ahead of him. And although his work was rewarding and extremely fascinating, constantly yielding new scientific advancements, and earning him a name amongst the scientific community in the city of which he worked and also the rest of the country, it was quite tiring, something that he has to loathsomely admit to himself from time to time. And it was infact, a truth of which he could not help but let dictate his life (for the most part), human beings required sleep, and he was in fact, oddly enough, human.

So, as per-usual, he rode on, through the early morning fog, struggling to keep his head clear of the constant, nagging thoughts that frequently weighed on his being.

He parked his motor bike, he went into his new workspace.

_________________________________________________________________________

11:23pm

He entered a club, some new place Jim had insisted was, and I quote "Poppin' ", whatever thats supposed to mean.

Although it did indeed seem to be quite inviting, offering a much needed escape from the terrors of his weekly rigor. He was glad for this break. He was also glad that Jim wasn't here tonight, that was a relief in itself completely. And it wasn't like he disliked him, he and jim got on quite well to be specific, he could just be a lot sometimes, and right now what he needed most was to get lost in the sea of bodies in front of him. But first, first he needed a drink. That is, if he actually wanted to get through this night. He adjusted his black tee and wiped the sweat that was beginning to form near browline, just under his bangs, before heading in the direction of the bar.

______________________________________________________________________________

He entered the bar with that " I'm fresh out of med school and found a job and I'm pretty sure I'm dead right now" look on his face, whatever thats supposed to mean. He made a beeline for the bad after flashing the security his ID, he was starting to get tired of it. He didn't look that young, did he?

But 23 was young, it was very young indeed.

He sat down right next to some guy, some guy with jet black hair and "modern dude-bangs". He paused to admire the undercut before shaking his head and returning to the task at hand. He paused , ordered, and once again the man, some guy, next to him, caught his attention.

He was working...In a club...at the bar... And not like "he works here" but as in "he brought something from home to do while he was out" it was disconcerting to say the least.

"Paper work, at a bar?, Please tell me this isnt your normal friday night idea of fun"

The man (young man?) flicked his eyes up briefly, if only to make sure that the voice he had just heard was not a hallucination.

"I found myself growing weary of this setting, and although I do wish to leave, I believe a more social setting is appropriate for me to spend the hour in today." he replied.

"So, lemme get this straight, you don't like it here, but you remain because you believe it to be 'appropriate'?"

He paused "Yes."

Leonard sighed.

"Alrighty then, have ya ever gone somewhere with a stranger at one-o'clock in tha' mornin'?"

" Are you propositioning me?" he replied lifting one perfectly arched, thick black brow.

Leonards eyes flicked to the small point that adorned the middle of it before opening his mouth to reply. The guy(man? young man?) cut him off.

"Shall I remind you of time that has passed since we uttered our first words again, or the fact that i don't know your name, much less who you even are." He seemed surprised by his use of an inflection.

"No, no, thats fine, its fine, just offering. I like your hair by the way" he offered lamely in response.

"I accept" the man replied, mentally surveying the probability of his (unlikely) death following his exit of the premises (caused by the man next to him).

The excited. Leonard began walking, the man followed.

"I'm Leo, by the way...If you were wondering" he said, hoping to spark a reply from the form next to him. The clubs lights were barely a flicker in the distance now. The chilly air stung his cheeks as he waited for a reply from the stranger.

"I am Spock" The stranger, scratch that Spock replied before following up with "it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Leo".

Leonard racked his mind for more possible ice breakers before letting "So...Spock is it? thats an interestin' name, are you foreign or something? Also what's your favourite colour?" stumble out of his mouth, not pausing to rethink what he was going to say in order to phrase it more eloquently.

Smooth.

Spocks side eyed him and his eyes shone with amusement at the apparent unease of his (for the time being) companion.

" I am Half American, with jewish lineage, and Half Japanese"

"Oh. Huh. Diverse" he replied, once again, letting his nerves lead his mouth.

Spock raised an eyebrow once again.

They walked on

"Its blue"

"Same"

"same?"

"mines is too, blue I mean, My favourite coulour is blue" he breathed out in exasperation.

"fascinating"

Spock didn't find it fascinating at all, truth be told, but he did find the man of which the words came out of quite interesting. What kind of person invited a stranger out, but loses all nerve once in the act, interesting...fascinating, indeed.

Needless to say, he too got his fair share of questions in that "night".


End file.
